The Archer of Moria
by LOTR Sparkling Pippin
Summary: A girl who has lived with the orcs of moria for 18 years stumbles upon the Fellowship. Without the option of killing her, they are forced to take her with them, putting themselves in danger on the way through the mines. (R&R and I'll love you forever.)
1. Moria's Child

Disclaimer: Insert witty 'I own nothing' message here  
  
Authors Note: This idea came to me after reading too many 'Girl appears in ME for some reason or another' and Merry/Pippin slash stories. Strange combination but it came up with this, which as far as I know, is somewhat original. Any line of ~*~*~*~ those things represents a change in time. It varies between the past and present in the beginning, but it will smooth out to just flashbacks after a while. Enjoy! (And pretty please, REVIEW! I love all comments, and you can flame or compliment me as much as you'd like!)  
  
  
  
Moria's Child  
  
The thick and heavy air of Moria was pierced by a wailing cry. The high octave screech assaulted the quite air in the cave in which no dwarf had lived for quite some time.  
  
"'Ey! Whatsdat sound Bonecrusher?" A goblin hissed to his friend as the loud screaming reached their ears. The two orcs were on watch duty as the rest of the colony slept and rested. It would be their heads if the sound woke up the boss, who was quite the disagreeable fellow.  
  
"I dunno stupid, we 'ave to go find out." Bonecrusher replied, his raspy voice all but mutilating the nice sounds of the common tongue. His friend grumbled and the pair of orcs scrambled down towards the entrance of Moria.  
  
The wails and screams seemed to grow louder, and then stopped as two pairs of golden-green eyes peered at the noises source. A tiny baby, a human girl, blinked at the two creatures that had discovered her. Her bright honey brown eyes were so busy staring at them she forgot to scream, and Moria once again grew silent.  
  
"It's an 'uman. A baby 'uman." Bonecrusher observed as he poked her with his dirty orc claws.  
  
"Let's kill it." His friend was quick to say, not wanting to waste time with much else. But his companion shook his head and roughly grabbed the child in one arm where she proceeded to wail again. The stench coming off of him was enough to make anything cry, but he was holding her and he was not gentle.  
  
"I gots an idea." Growled Bonecrusher, causing his friend to snort in disgust.  
  
"You don'ts need no idea, let's just kill the beast." Was the reply, but Bonecrusher chose to ignore it. They climbed back to their post, and were greeted by the sight of their leader. A snarl was rising in his throat, and his dark lips were curled in disgust. "Where were you two idiots?" He demanded as they reluctantly stood before him, expecting punishment any second. Bonecrusher quickly told where they were, and then presented the child to him. His leader took the child, and the blanket wrapped around her. Peering closely at the fabric a smile soon replaced his scowl.  
  
"The mark of Gondor is on this blanket." He told them, one muscular arm cradling the infant. His sour lemon eyes glared into hers, and then a loud throaty laugh (if you could call it a laugh) rolled off his tongue and bounced echoing off the caverns walls. Pluton (for that was his name) was amused by the fact she glared back at him.  
  
"We could use 'er." Bonecrusher suggested as his Master finished laughing. Again the head orcs lip curled, as if he was insulted by what was said. Fixing Bonecrusher with a look that plainly said I-already-have-a- plan; he reached out and swatted him on the head.  
  
"Teach the little brat to fight, shoot arrows, use swords and knives, run swiftly, dodge.all of it. Do not touch her, I want her unspoiled till eighteen winters pass." He commanded as he roughly shoved her back to them. They stared at the little child, the human child, they were now to raise. Orcs were not usually gentle with offspring, but for this one an exception would be made.  
  
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"Pluton!" The melodious voice that was the only sweet sound in Moria for the past eighteen years sounded. The demanding gaze of the human they'd raised fixed upon the orc leader. He snarled in response, which would have scared any of the others away, but not her.  
  
"Pluton, you swore you'd let me see outside this blasted cavern today!" Her voice was low and soft, but as the orcs had learned, this only meant she was especially upset.  
  
"And what day is today?" Pluton asked in annoyance from where he sat eating his grand meal. He barely glanced up from his meat which he ate in ravenous bites, and this proved to only further annoy the girl.  
  
"My eighteenth year since you idiot goblins found me." She replied. Pluton glanced up and fixed his yellow eyes on her. Yes, it had been eighteen years since they'd found her, and many times he regretted taking her in. She was not the prettiest thing to look at as far as humans went.  
  
The girl had long, unruly maple hair that was always twisted into tangles and knots. Her face was more masculine than feminine, save for the long ebony lashes and peach lips. It was her eyes that were most curious, a very light brown, almost honey colored. Living in the cave had made her strong, nearly every part of her was well muscled. But lack of 'real' food (as she called it) made her thin, too slender too make for a top warrior. A very good warrior she was, but not the best. Her forte was in archery, perhaps because her vision for surpassed theirs. But in every other skill that required weapons she did well enough at, at least well enough to survive battles.  
  
He grabbed a sharp knife and flung it, where it whistled by, just inches past her ear. It clanged against the wall behind her and fell, where she picked it up. Running a finger along its blade, she then took its handle and tossed it back. The knife landed a hairs width from his finger, causing Pluton to growl in anger.  
  
"Arrow, please leave me to eat and go bother someone else." He muttered, sticking another forkful of food in his mouth. Her nickname, Arrow, had been used so often that many forgot what they'd first called her. They'd first named her Wynter, on account of that was the season they found her, but when she became top archer she was quickly known as Arrow.  
  
He looked up, expecting to find the place where she'd been standing empty, but she was still standing their. "ARROW! Get OUT!" He roared, but the girl did not flinch. She folded her arms across her bosom, which signaled her defiance to him. Pausing, Pluton let out a raspy sigh, and stood.  
  
"You know what's going on out there? You eavesdrop enough, I'm assuming you do." He snarled at her, but was dismayed when this did not faze her either.  
  
"Yes, I've heard about the ring. About Sauron, Saruman, Gandalf, the halflings, the elves, the dwarves, the Nazgul, the Uruk-Hai, the other orcs, the ents. And if you don't mind, I'd like to see it for myself." She replied tartly, her eyes smoldering in determination. Pluton snorted, trying to still appear haughty as if he knew she'd heard so much. In truth, he believed she knew barely anything, but now he was worried. If she heard that, she could have easily heard of his plans for her.  
  
"You promised me I could leave this disgusting place on my eighteenth birthday!" Arrow added, and a smile slowly crept across Plutons face. He had also promised his warriors something too, but from her look, he guessed she did not know. The orc quickly pondered what would happen if he just handed her over to them and gave up the plan they'd worked on for these past eighteen years. But no, he couldn't.  
  
"Fine. Get some guards, and you may go to Moria's entrance." Pluton said, waving his hand at her as if she should hurry and get it done with.  
  
At that moment, something neither was expecting happened, dashing the hopes of both orc and human.  
  
"Master! The Fellowship is approaching Moria!" A small orc exclaimed, bursting into the room with the news. At this, Arrow's eyes seemed to fill with excitement while Pluton's eyes narrowed to slits. A very dangerous sign indeed, because it means you have successfully angered an orc. Which if you are not skilled in fighting, is unwise, and it just so happened this scrawny orc who had the luck of announcing this was a very poor fighter.  
  
"Fool!" Pluton hissed, grabbing the knife he'd just thrown at arrow and hurled it at the creature's neck. It sunk into his horny skin, and he made horrible gurgling noises as he sank to the ground near Arrow's feet.  
  
A dozen orcs soon filed into the room, shouting about the nine companions Arrow had heard so much about. Seeing Pluton preoccupied, the girl slipped unnoticed from the muddled chamber. All around her, everyone was speaking of the ones approaching, paying Arrow no attention.  
  
'This is my chance.' She thought to herself, 'I can finally get out of this blasted place and actually do something! I'll sooner be the consultant of Saruman himself before that idiot Pluton can do anything to stop this.quest.'  
  
Her feet carried her swiftly to the entrance of Moria, which was as usual, closed. The peculiar thing was that guards had abandoned their post, leaving her free to leave. At the back of her mind, something screamed at her it was too simple, but she would not listen. Searching hands quickly found all her weapons, and a good supply of food that would last her a good while. The clothing she wore, of orc design, was well worn, but it would have to do.  
  
And with that, she pushed the doors of Moria open and was greeted by the blinding sunlight she'd longed to see for eighteen long years. 


	2. Out From the Underworld

Disclaimer: I still own nothing, Mr.Tolkien made everything 'cept for Arrow and the random orcs I made. Besides, if you sued me you'd just get lotsa LOTR merchandise! I wasted all my money on it.  
  
Authors Note: Eh, I suppose it won't be as 'dramatic' as I hoped. At least for a while. Please please review. Flame. Whatever just make me happy and comment.  
  
Out From the Underworld  
  
Arrow stood in shock as the bright sun invaded her eyes. Lashes veiled her eyes so all she could see was darkness, but she felt warm. Where the sunlight touched her skin it immediately warmed and prickled, giving her a tickling sensation all over. A soft thud announced that Moria's doors had closed behind her, and she felt no desire to go back. Lucky for her she did not want to go back, for if she did, she'd have to wait till nightfall and even then know the password.  
  
Slowly, she raised the lids of her eyes and the bright sun once again entered her vision. Standing patiently for many moments, her eyes adjusted to the blinding light. Her eyes were opened wide, and her curious orbs soaked in every bit of detail she could take. The pebbles which lined the pathways of Moria were not shades of gray as she'd always seen them. Some were ivory, others dark ebony or a light muddy color. A few even had a smooth green plant covering them.  
  
To her left and right were two trees, although she did not know they were called trees, but there they were all the same. Towering over her with budding leaves, and rough brown bark protecting it from some dangers. But her inquisitive gaze saw the markings of an ax in the bark, as if someone had tried to cut it down and thought better of it.  
  
Before her was a wide lake, a diluted sapphire color, with ripples breaking the clear reflection of the sky. The sky! It was the most brilliant blue she'd ever seen, with soft looking things. Milky white, dancing in the wind and painting pictures in the brilliant blue of the sky. Even if she'd been taught to love things for their ability to hurt and kill, she was drawn to beauty. There was not much of it down below in the cold tunnels of Moria, the mine that lacked color and light. And this truly was the most incredible, most beautiful thing she had ever seen in the entire world.  
  
Thankful for the gnawing doubt on the back of her mind that reminded her to hide, she dove out of sight. The orc Pluton had killed, he'd said the Fellowship was coming. Her curious nature had led her to hear quite a few conversations about them she was never to have heard at all, and her curiosity was now at an unquenchable level. She would not be satisfied until she saw them.  
  
After all, she'd only seen the twisted skeletons left of those poor dwarves, reflections of herself, and of course, the orcs who had raised her. Despite her coldness towards them, and the lack of love they'd always shown her, she did 'love' them. They were her family, after all. They'd taken her in when her own kind did not want her. For that she would always be grateful.  
  
Peeking out from behind a large boulder, she watched as two orcs passed her muttering things about humans and elves. One of them said something and the doors to Moria reopened and then returned to the dark underground. Arrow shivered, wondering if she ever could go back. It was so warm up here, so bright, so colorful. Not to mention the smells that had overpowered her senses ever since she made her way out of the mine.  
  
The smell of water, of leaves, of moss, of life! It was all incredible, and all new to her. Why had the orcs shielded this from her anyway? Surely they could see this place was better than that wretched, filthy hole in the ground that they called a mine?  
  
Hours passed, and Arrow soon witnessed her first sunset. The fiery ball dipped beneath the ground, lighting those soft milky objects in the sky with fire. Some burned violet, others blazed a soft carnation hue, and one was alight with a blazing orange color. Of course Arrow knew none of these colors, they were new. But to amuse herself she named them. The purple she called Morine because it reminded her of what the mines looked like when torchlight bounced off the walls. The pink she dubbed Wound, because it was a softer variation of what blood and flame looked like. And the orange she named Melon, the name of the strange fruit she'd once seen Pluton eating that shared a similar shade.  
  
And then the sun vanished completely, and a new orb took its place. A glimmering silver ball that washed down on the water and make it sparkle. The moon, she knew it was called, but it seemed to simple a name for so stunning a thing. And then stars! She was not prepared for the bright twinkles of light that winked at her from the cobalt sky. If she wanted, she could arrange them into shapes and faces.  
  
As she was doing this, she heard approaching footsteps and voices. Expecting more orcs, she crouched behind her rock. But the voices.they were so soft. Gentle, soothing voices, surely they could not be orcs! Nor could those light footfalls belong to any orc, no matter how careful he stepped! The metal tipped boots they wore did not thud gently, as did these feet. Could this be the Fellowship she'd heard so much about?  
  
"Well here we are at last." A voice announced. It was old, a bit throaty and raspy, with just the hint of kindness in its tone. Arrow furrowed her brow, trying to think of what might sound like that when a partly dripping robe appeared before her. It was followed by eight others, all dripping from their knees down. Arrow did not dare to look up and see what creatures they were, for their legs were interesting enough.  
  
Four of them had tiny legs with feet sprouting hair from them. The hair was curled over and matted down by water, and Arrow was right in assuming, the skin of their feet must be very tough. One had soft leathery shoes, and he stepped very lightly. His legs were long and slender. Another had thick boots, as well as short legs. Two had shoes like hers, boots, but without the metal tips. Also long-legged, but not nearly as thin as the other long leg creature. Lastly, two beasts with short hair sprouting all the way up its leg! They had bizarre looking feet, no toes or anything except a metal shoe that seemed to stay on its foot by magic.  
  
"Here the Elven way from Hollin ended." The old voice said again, and Arrow let out a soft sigh of relief. They had not noticed her. Thank Valor these creatures had worse senses than the orcs!  
  
"Yrch." A light voice muttered softly, yet coldly. It chilled Arrow for some reason, but she knew not why.  
  
"Gandalf. The smell of orcs is near." The soft voice said, its tone cold and unforgiving. Whether the creature that possessed this voice sounded this way all the time, or spoke so only in the presence of orcs, Arrow could not guess. But why he didn't like orcs was strange. Unless he was an elf.  
  
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"Now Winter, you know of orcs, humans, and dwarves, do you not?" An orc asked her. She nodded her tiny eight year old head obediently, and gazed into her teachers eyes.  
  
"Good. The last race you need to learn of for today is elves. Elves are very tall, and very bad. They kill orcs and humans without reason with their arrows. They make horrible things that burn your skin and torture your soul. All of them have long hair and cold eyes, so if you see one, never hesitate to kill it. If you don't, it will kill you. They are the vilest of all creatures on Middle-Earth. Nasty vermin, so don't you ever hesitate to kill one before it shoots you with its own arrow." Her teacher lectured, and with that, a seed was planted into her mind. It blossomed into a full-grown idea, that elves were truly evil and would kidnap or kill her adoptive family.  
  
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The company stood still (Arrow could tell because the only noise was now a soft sniffing) and Arrow held her breath. The leather shoed being slowly crept nearer and nearer to her rock. The breath she'd been holding caught in her throat, and she grabbed for her knife. The sword was too heavy to use in a crouching position, as would an ax. Of course archery was out of the picture, but her knife would have to do.  
  
Both of them screamed at once, the elf crying 'Mirkwood! and the girl crying, 'Moria!'. Eight gasps of surprise punctured the tension filled air as she sprang up from her hiding spot. The knife she held was at the throat of what she assumed to be an elf, and his arrow was pointed squarely between her eyes.  
  
Arrow's eyes smoldered as she realized his golden hair was long, his eyes cold, and he held an arrow. An elf! A handsome elf, to be sure, but that did not matter. Orcs were ugly and vile, but were kind enough to take her in. He could be as beautiful as the sun, and still be evil.  
  
Legolas, his hate-filled eyes at expecting an orc quickly changed to surprise. Before him was the strangest looking human he'd ever seen. Untamed maple hair spilled down her shoulders, ending in choppy waves at her midback. Her skin was as pale as the moons light, which fell in shafts around them now. Tall and willowy, but fierce looking all the same in her orc attire. Not to mention the fact she held a weapon to his throat.  
  
Gandalf slowly approached the pair, choosing his words carefully. "Legolas, lower your weapon." He commanded, and Arrow recognized it to be the 'old' voice. Reluctantly, the elf did so, but Arrow did not falter in her hold of the blade.  
  
The wizard cleared his throat, perhaps to let Arrow know he expected her to put her weapon down as well, or maybe he just had phlegm in his throat. That issue was never solved. Arrow did however glance at him, and saw she was right in guessing he was old. He had a wide brimmed hat, but his bushy eyebrows stuck out further than the hats edge. His eyes were miniscule sapphires that looked as if they'd seen a lot, and knew a lot as well.  
  
Arrow guessed him to be a human, for the orcs had never really mentioned wizards. He gently took her hand and lowered it to her side, causing her to fix him with a quizzical look on her face.  
  
"Now, my dear girl, would you please tell us who you are and what you are doing here?" The old one said to her. Arrow was compelled to blurt everything out, but tried to compose herself.  
  
"My name is Wynter, but my family calls me Arrow. Who are you?" The harsh tone in her voice was strange to them. None of them knew any woman who spoke so boldly, much less asked her questions as more of a demand. Gandalf was the first to introduce himself, which prompted the others to follow.  
  
It was curious to her why some had two names, but as she was too busy staring at them all, she couldn't ask why they did. They all looked like her in some sense, but she knew they were males. Aside from herself, she believed all other creatures to be as ugly as the orcs were, but these people made her suddenly feel terribly ugly.  
  
"That is all you are called? Wynter? Arrow?" The one named Aragorn asked her. She nodded as if that was obvious. Why would she be called otherwise?  
  
"Do you have no family name?" Gandalf inquired, and she suddenly realized that's what their second names were. She shook her head, and a strange expression clouded the old mans face.  
  
"Who are your parents?" He asked then, trying a different approach.  
  
"Bonecrusher and Pluton, I suppose." She answered somewhat reluctantly. Now the same curious expression was plastered on all of their faces.  
  
"Orc names." Gimli muttered in disgust. Arrow felt her face grow hot, flushing crimson.  
  
"And what is wrong with orcs?" She demanded of the dwarf (she correctly guessed he was an elf, based on her teacher's description and by the size of the skeletons).  
  
This seemed to cause some tension, as it dawned over them that she was on the side of the orcs. Gandalf suspected (correctly) that she'd been in the care of orcs for some time, and felt she was deeply in their debt.  
  
"You were raised by them?" Gandalf asked her, and she nodded proudly. The arrogant way in which she did so seemed to bother the companions, especially Legolas, who shuddered slightly at the thought.  
  
The moon, which had been veiled by the now silver lined clouds, reappeared. Gandalf shook his head, "I don't have time for this. Gimli, Legolas, keep an eye on her." He commanded. The elf and dwarf reluctantly stepped up to the girl, wondering how any human could survive an orc upbringing.  
  
"She could be a spy of the enemy." Gimli commented after an uncomfortable silence had passed between the three of them. Arrow opened her mouth to protest, but Legolas beat her to it.  
  
"Gandalf did not say he thought she was. Besides, I have never heard of a woman on the dark side." Legolas pointed out. Arrow snarled at him, as if she was insulted by his defense. The elf gave her a sideways glance that stopped her growlings, and she remembered another lesson from her teacher. After orcs, Elves hated dwarves the most.  
  
So that was it! He must resent having to guard someone who was raised by orcs, and share the duty with a dwarf! A smirk blossomed on her lips as Arrow schemed to see how she could make this evil creatures life miserable so long as she must go with them.  
  
"How old are you anyway?" The elf asked her. Arrow gave him a scathing glance, which he returned. "Eighteen." She finally muttered, averting her glance away from his. Now it was his turn to laugh!  
  
"Eighteen! You are but a child." He said, a slight chuckle in his voice. He had mistaken her for older, and had figured her wise enough to see the orcs were not in anyway good. It was some comfort to know she was still very young. But Arrow did not know this, so she again drew her knife to point at the elf.  
  
Legolas did not react in surprise, he merely took the stiletto from her grasp. Arrow let out a strangled cry as he flung it into the water beside them, and Gimli took his hand away from the handle of his ax.  
  
The halfling named Frodo approached from behind them. "I am afraid of the pool, Legolas, don't disturb it." Said he. Legolas looked down at him, trying to hide the look of fondness in his eyes before he agreed to Frodo's plea.  
  
"Gandalf cannot open the doors of Moria. He has forgotten the password." He informed them, and they slowly made there way to where the wizard was trying long forgotten phrases to open the doors. Boromir glanced curiously at Arrow.  
  
"Do you not know the password? Do you, Gimli?" The man asked them, and they both shook there heads. Gimli was about to offer an explanation before Arrow cried out.  
  
"You want to go down into Moria?" She asked in disbelief.  
  
"Yes, Arrow, we need to get through there quickly. Unless you have a helpful message from your orc friends I plead with you to keep quiet and let me think." Gandalf snapped at her.  
  
Arrow gave a most unladylike flop onto the ground outside the caverns. After listening to Aragorn and Gandalf speak in hushed whispers, the man approached her with the explanation of what they were doing.  
  
"Here, Arrow. I will tell you what we are trying to do, but if you listen to our tale, you must come with us until we find a safe place to put you." Aragorn said softly, drawing the attention of the others. The halflings sat beside her, and the others behind Aragorn.  
  
"That's an acceptable agreement to me." She replied, eager to see more of Middle-Earth. And so she heard their tale to the full extent, heard about the ring, about everything when Gandalf suddenly cried out.  
  
"I have it!" The wizard said, a laugh invading his comment. "Absurdly simple, like most riddles when you see the answer!" And with that he pressed his staff against the doors and spoke in a commanding voice, "Mellon!".  
  
"Here is where we see if you keep up your bargain, Arrow." Aragorn whispered, ushering her and the hobbits into the mine.  
  
(( Authors Note: Yay! Three reviews all ready! I love you all, thank you, thank you!  
  
Taffeta Punk-Yes, I got his name from Pluto. Eep, I see lots of fics where people die in the first chapter. I hope mine ish better than theirs. Not likely. -.-;  
  
Amlugwen-Nope, those nasty orcs can't do anything right! Eh, Arrow is not the nicest of people. I call her a Sue-Mary because The Fellowship (so far) does not like her. If you care anyway. ^^;  
  
Amarth-Your wish is my command! You may have only had a two word review, but I did continue, did I not?  
  
To Lurkers-REVIEW! Aiii! I must have reviews or I will burst into a ball of flame and go rampaging to Orlando Blooms house and kill him. Not really, though, I love Orli.  
  
Pretty please review? Flame? Make random comments? Type letters that mean nothing what-so-ever? Do something and I'll love you forever! )) 


	3. A Walk in the Mines

Friend or Foe  
  
At that moment, many things happened at once. The pony (Arrow had learned he was called Bill, and been told quite a few other things by the hobbit named Sam about ponies) gave a startled neigh and darted off into the night. Sam dashed after him, running blindly. A wet tentacle wrapped around Frodo's ankle and pulled him down, causing the hobbit to cry out. At this, the company turned, and Sam came running back to help his master.  
  
Arrow leapt forward with Sam, too unwise to know her decision was foolish, and together they slashed at the wormy limb that had hold of Frodo. Behind them the lake's surface was broken by myriads of ripples and the curious feelers of whatever creature lived in the body of water.  
  
"Into the gateway!" Gandalf cried, stirring the others out of their stupor and into safety. Arrow and Sam grabbed one of Frodo's arms and scrambled backwards into Moria, beyond the doors and into the mine. Tentacles still reached out for the hobbit, and with a shout, Arrow swung her sword and cut the tip of the curious feeler off entirely. A screech boiled the waters behind them as she did so, but it was all for the best. Frodo was soon safely inside. Nine pairs of expectant eyes turned to the great wizard.  
  
If he was trying to think of how to close the door, he need not to have bothered. The gleaming tentacles came slithering back, creeping their way into Moria's entrance. Then there was a terrific noise, and second's later blackness enveloped them. A choked sob from Sam broke the short- lasted silence.  
  
The darkness for Arrow, was not dark at all. This portion wasn't lighted, but her vision was used to it. In the lightless area, her eyesight surpassed even that of Legolas! The shadowy figure of Gandalf made his way back to the entrance, trying to push the doors apart with his staff.  
  
"Well, the passage is blocked behind us and now our only exit would be on the other side of the mountain. I am sorry that creature felt the need to uproot those beautiful trees and block the doors with them, they had stood their quite long." The wizard said, coming back to them.  
  
"What was that creature you speak of Gandalf? Or were there many? I felt the water was horrible the moment I set my feet in it." Frodo asked.  
  
"I do not know." Said Gandalf, "But the arms were all guided by one purpose. There are older and fouler things than orcs." He trailed off, giving Arrow a look from beneath his bushy brows.  
  
"There are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places of the world." He said again, and moved forward. A whisper from Boromir not meant for others ears bounced and echoed off the walls until they had heard it.  
  
"In the deep places of the world! And with us we heard a child of the orcs, and against my wishes. Who will lead us in this deadly dark?" The repeated echo asked, to which the wizard replied.  
  
"I shall. And Gimli will walk by my side."  
  
And so they pressed onwards, led by the dwarf and wizard. They were a mighty team, picking and choosing paths swiftly. Gandalf did not doubt that Arrow could lead them, but he did not trust her, nor did he trust the silence of the goblins. If one should see her, they may advance in the hundreds to slay them all and retrieve their oddity of a child.  
  
"I can go no further without a bite to eat!" Frodo burst after they'd gone all but two hundred steps. Arrow thought to herself that there must be a spark in the hobbits hearts that when lit by the adrenaline of adventures burst into a flaming passion to eat! But she did not refuse the offer to eat, nor did anyone else.  
  
"I doubt that those orcs of yours feed you too well. You may find our fare is better." Legolas said, offering her some of the food. Arrow considered letting her tongue loose and insulting the arrogant elf, but she never had liked the food they'd given her.  
  
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The tables in the long hall were filled to the brim with Orcs and wargs, all fighting and snarling over food. Pluton shoved Arrow in, and she was forced to try and feed herself. After a few unsuccessful tries, she lunged over someone's shoulder, snatched a tray of what appeared to be edible food, and then felt a sharp wrist cutting into her ankle.  
  
"Dat's mine you filt'y 'uman!" A voice growled, yanking her off the table. A quick game of tug-of-war ensued, to which the Orc won. Arrow sat on the floor, cursing him under her breath before she was struck by an idea. She wiggled under the tables, and when she heard his uproarious laughter, assuming he was distracted, snaked her arm up and grabbed the plate. She whisked it down and squirmed back out.  
  
By this time the creature was shouting, but she was half way across the room. Eating the meal in a corner, she felt it less than adequate, but at least she'd finally learned proper table manners.  
  
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Arrow did not extend a hand to take the offering, so the elf sat it back down. Arrow surveyed the food and found the best stuff to be on the plates of Boromir, but there was more on the hobbit's trays. The young one was pestering Aragorn, and when she felt he was well enough distracted, she grabbed his plate and returned to her seat.  
  
"Where on Middle-Earth did that come from?" Legolas asked, glancing at the plate in her lap. At that moment, the halfling gave a tremendous cry and leapt to his feet.  
  
"My food's been stolen!" Pippin wailed, for this was a most unfortunate event for him. Legolas looked coldly at Arrow as Aragorn tried to calm Pippin down. The other hobbits clung to their food, expecting something to jump out and take it all away from them.  
  
"Peregrin, I believe that Arrow here has your food." Legolas said softly, gently taking the food from her and offering it back to the young hobbit. From Peregrin, a smile was issued to Legolas, but his eyes were careful to ignore Arrow.  
  
Arrow tried to act as if this performance had not hassled her, but it was a tough look to pull. The elf sat back down looking at her curiously, and Arrow returned his glance with a dark glare of her own. Standing, she peered around for a new place to rest.  
  
She slowly approached Gandalf, her slow gait giving away her apprehension.  
  
"I do not plan on striking you, my girl, now please sit down before the eyes of that foolish Took over there pop out of his head." The wizard said quite calmly.  
  
Arrow did as she was told and swiftly sat down. Not able to resist, she met Pippin's gaze, and he did indeed look quite alarmed by her presence. Either that or he was deathly afraid of his food again being stolen.  
  
The rest of the company spoke in hushed voices, which however softly voiced, bounced off the walls for all to hear. Scattered bits of conversations came to a stop when the wizard stood up and Gimli took Arrow's place by his side. Arrow fell behind them, and wandered backwards.  
  
She would have gone off and walked back to the orcs if an outstretched arm had not prevented it. Boromir stood beside her, a stern look upon his face. Arrow glowered at him as he steered her back to the group. As the others began talking around them and the marching became boring, he opted to talk with her.  
  
"At what age did the orcs find you?" He asked gently, making sure he did not change his tone or face at the mention of orcs. Arrow noticed this, and took it as a gesture of kindness.  
  
"Before the age of one, they say. The day of my birth is either a mystery or a question they refuse to answer." She replied.  
  
"You know nothing of your life before then?"  
  
"Only what I have heard in discussions never designed for me to hear."  
  
"Which is what?"  
  
"That I was born in Gondor, or at least visited there as a baby."  
  
"Anything else?"  
  
"Only rumors of a plan they had that dealt with me. I never heard anything much about it, and no talks directly involving me."  
  
After Boromir mentioned he was from Gondor, Arrow would not let go of the topic. She made him describe everything about the city in detail, which lasted until there next stop. They were to sleep here, around a great hole that had once been a well.  
  
Warmed by the kindness of Boromir, and thrilled with visions of Gondor, Arrow made her mind to apologize to the hobbit that she'd taken food from. She spotted four heads of curly hair, and recognized Pippin as the one by the hole.  
  
Gandalf bade them to sleep well, and issued the first watch to himself. The others immediately settled down, leaving Arrow feeling foolish as she looked for a place to rest. Pippin was now totally enthralled by the hole, so she crept next to him. He held a flat rock in his hand, and looked as if he could not decide to throw it in or not.  
  
Arrow took his hand and pried it out of his fingers, alarming the poor hobbit so badly he nearly threw himself in.  
  
"I would not toss it in, if I were you." She whispered, kneeling to look into his eyes. His gaze met hers with some reluctance, but when he saw no harm in her look he relaxed.  
  
After a pause, he scuttled off to sit next to Merry. Gandalf had watched them uneasily, but any and all his doubts of Arrow seemed to fade after witnessing their interaction. Arrow glanced down into the hole and felt a breath of cold air come rushing up and tickling her skin. Creeping back, she found Boromir had given up one of his blankets for her use.  
  
This confused her to no end. First of all, she could sleep on the floor without blankets; she had done so for eighteen years. Secondly, he was giving up his own comfort. No one ever did that. Pluton had every comfortable thing in the world, and never shared it despite how kind anyone was to him. But she was too tired to think about it, and curled up on the blanket.  
  
One by one they all dropped off in sleep, except for Arrow. A very faint 'tap-tap' sound which was familiar to her. It was a wonder the elf did not hear it, for she'd been told they had incredible sensory abilities. But perhaps he was not listening.  
  
In fact, Legolas was listening, and he did indeed hear it. He did not wish to alarm the group with the news, and thought it best to wait for morning. Whenever that was.  
  
The old wizard left his watch a moment, and looked at his companions. The number had grown by one today, but the amount of trouble they had gained was much more than that. 


	4. You Will Regret It

You Will Regret It  
  
  
  
The last watch, manned by Sam, ended with Gandalf's awakening. He decided it was morning, or a few hours past it and they must hurry to get through. A quick, uneventful breakfast followed. Pippin and Arrow sat together talking, her feeling guilty for taking his meal earlier, and him feeling guilty for judging her. Although she would not admit it, she felt she could relate well to the youngest of the hobbits.  
  
"We must move on. Morning is upon us, or well past and I would like to leave here quickly." Gandalf spoke, rising from his seat. The supplies were swiftly packed up, and they began another day of marching.  
  
The thought of escape still lingered on her mind, but both the new concept of friendship and the fact she was not allowed out of their sight stopped her. After her first glimpse of Middle-Earth, the lightless halls of Moria seemed blander than ever. The silver was grayer, the light was darker, the rocks were colder, the air was stuffier, and it all seemed to be trying to choke her.  
  
Her head swam with thoughts, emotions battling fiercely over something she could not even understand. Friends, love, what was all of that? Orcs had no use of it, so she shouldn't either. Then again, she was not of orc kind; she should not have to suffer with them. Around and around her thoughts swirled, and it created a whirlpool of confusion. Yet no hint of this was given from the emotionless façade that was her expression.  
  
At a new turn, the tapping of hammers and other noises that had disappeared came back with a vengeance. Echoes of tapping, whispers of speeches, and the muffled clatter that was a practice fight all came flooding out from the tunnels. Ahead of them was a long passageway with many different rooms to the side.  
  
"We must be swift now. We will go hither until we face our obstacle, and then we must find our way around it. How? I do not know, but draw your weapons for now. Arrow, if you wish to ever leave this place, you will not fight." The wizard warned them.  
  
Immediately the dull air was sliced by the sharp edges of the weapons drawn forth by the company. Arrow longed to simply sit down and think, but there was no time as Gandalf made his way as quickly as possible.  
  
The sounds rose and fell as they made there way without rest or stop. Arrow could not figure what the orcs were playing at. Of course they knew of their presence, but they seemed to be backing away.  
  
Suddenly they stood blinded in a dimly lit room. Arrow did not need to recover; she was used to the surprise of a few randomly brighter rooms. If the others had not stood in a blinking stupor looking so helpless, she may have left them for good.  
  
"Well, are you all going to stand in that spot all day?" She growled, although her voice was soft, so not to disturb the orcs that were ahead.  
  
"We shall as long as a certain girl blocks our path." Gandalf returned, walking past her to the tomb in the chambers center.  
  
"Balin son of Fundin, Lord of Moria." He read from the inscribed rooms. A soft choked sob from Gimli was let out as he lowered his helmet.  
  
"We can not linger here; I know now where we are. Let us hurry." Gandalf urged, and seconds after the words left his lips did a loud sound echo around them.  
  
The other sounds they had heard were muted, and now only a deep rolling, 'doom' sounded about them. As the scurrying of many feet sounded, Aragorn leapt forward.  
  
Perhaps if they had been allowed more time, or if they had been quieter there may have been a bit more planning, but now there was none. Boromir and Aragorn slammed shut the door, barring it with weapons of the fallen. Gandalf seemed as if he would protest, but he was interrupted by the intrusion of a green arm and shoulder slamming against the door.  
  
All was silent, but then a whistling arrow struck the intruding limb. There was a protesting bellow, and then with a giant crash the doors slammed open. Arrows whizzed by the fellowships ears as orc upon orc swarmed into the room. Gandalf had his sword at the ready, but before any of the orcs were felled by him, he gave Arrow a dark look.  
  
"Arrow!" A rather young orc yelled. His threatening run slowed to a walk as he neared her.  
  
"Get away from th"  
  
"Was it necessary to cut his head off?" Arrow demanded of Aragorn as he began to attack a few more. Her eyes narrowed as she thought she saw the slightest nod of his head. Sure, these orcs were not her true family, but did this group honestly believe she would not fight for them? She wanted freedom, but her sense of pride had not left her.  
  
Chaos ensued within the chamber for the next few minutes. An orc tossed Arrow a bow, and another threw a quiver of bows in her direction. She caught them both, running her hands along the familiar surface of the weapon. Arrow was an amazing archer, and surely whichever side she chose to fight with would have an advantage. Which did she value more, her freedom or her pride? Fighting with the fellowship meant she would live the rest of her days haunted by the ghosts of the friends she had slain. Fighting with her family meant she would quite possibly live the rest of her days within a cave. Just then an arrow barely missed her stomach, ending her train of thought. She glanced up expecting to see the elf, but instead it was Pluton. He was shooting at her!  
  
Her mouth opened ready to unleash every unkind word upon him but she couldn't. He'd raised her from a baby and now he was trying to kill her?  
  
In Pluton's mind all he wanted was to injure Arrow, they still needed her if the plan was going to be done. The plan he had schemed about for eighteen long years would not be ruined by an elf, a dwarf, a wizard, Halflings, and men. He felt nothing as he prepared to shoot another arrow at her; he could only think of victory.  
  
The second arrow whizzed through the air on a straight path to Arrow. She dove to the left, landing on the caverns floor. A fire now burned within her, and she made her choice.  
  
"Pluton, you will regret the day you ever took me in!" She roared as she stood. The leader never had much of a chance to decide if that was true or not, because within five seconds an arrow had pierced his head. More weapons were being thrown at her from her family and friends. She shot them all, and did not think twice about it. 


	5. Aragorn's Chance

Nine present in Moria were fighting for their lives, one was fighting for revenge. Arrows flew through the air, swords were slicing through bodies, and daggers cut in and out of flesh. The scene was not all together very pleasant. It did seem that the fellowship and their tagalong were beginning to show signs of victory.  
  
"Go, now!" Gandalf urged.  
  
Arrow would have stayed and made an attempt at slaying every last one of them if Gimli had not shoved the girl towards the stairs. Even as it was the dwarf could not push her fast enough for a large orc burst into the chamber. His eyes narrowed at the sight of a dwarf herding one of his pupils away from battle, to him nothing could be worse than fleeing from a fight. The large goblin charged at them, but was a bit surprised when a small hobbit went dashing towards them. His spear jabbed into the air over their heads since they had all toppled to the ground after Frodo fell into them.  
  
"Arrow, stop bein' so stupid and get back where you belong!" He snarled, aiming his spear at her back. If a certain dwarves axe had not cleaved his feet from his legs he might have been more concerned with her scathing reply in orcish; but as it was, he was too busy clawing at the stumps where his feet had once been to listen.  
  
"Mistress Arrow, Master Frodo, we had better be following Gandalf now." Gimli reminded the two of them. Despite the near fatality and Arrow's protests they were not that far behind the others.  
  
"Quickly, quickly." Spurred Gandalf as they made their way past him. Aragorn stood behind the wizard with concern showing in his face.  
  
"You are not going to try to hold the door alone?" The ranger asked.  
  
"I'm not going to try, I will do it. Lead them on to the bottom of these stairs, and if I do not soon follow you must lead them through the rest of Moria."  
  
Hesitantly Aragorn steered the hobbits down the flight of steps with the rest hurrying after them. The quick pitter patter of feet and boots hitting rock echoed around the cavern, creating the illusion that a whole army was making their way down the staircase. Once at the bottom Aragorn quickly attended to the hobbits while Boromir put Arrow under his watch. Legolas and Gimli were more preoccupied with the fact that Gandalf was only just now coming down the steps.  
  
"Quickly, quickly!" Aragorn yelled to Gandalf, repeating the words the wizard had said only minutes earlier. He made his way down, stumbling often. It was then that the idea Gandalf could not lead them much further blossomed within Aragorn's mind, but he dismissed the thought. With the addition of Arrow things had become intensified. At first the solution seemed obvious, but for every second she stayed with them, the solution seemed to become more confused. Everyday Frodo seemed to grow worse, even if he himself did not notice it.  
  
"To the bridge of Khazad-Dum." Gandalf said breathlessly once he reached his companions. Aragorn gave him an affirmative nod, rushing forward. Boromir glanced backwards, intending to grab Arrow as she tried to either sneak off or kill something, but for the first time she did not need to be led anywhere. Her two eyes fixed him with a look that seemed more deadly than the wrath of the dark lord himself.  
  
"I am capable of performing tasks without your guidance." Arrow muttered. Boromir nodded slightly and simply turned to make towards the bridge of Khazad-Dum. The group tried to keep together as they ran, but those with longer legs soon took the lead. Gandalf stopped suddenly, staring down at the floor. The two humans came to a more gradual halt, looking at their leader.  
  
"A balrog." Gandalf said in a husky voice laced with fear. Everyone but Arrow and Legolas furrowed their brows in confusion, while the mentioned two stood still in terror.  
  
"Could we fight it?" Arrow asked, not having much experience with the creature. Gandalf shook his head, wispy white hair scattering down his head. His hat had been lost somewhere in his run down the stairs, but it had not been of importance.  
  
"There are no weapons which any of us wield that could defeat it quickly enough. We must hurry to get through the remainder of Moria." The wizard advised them. Nothing more was spoken, and they fell into an uncomfortable silence.  
  
"Run." Gandalf commanded. And they did, quickly as possible they ran. The bridge loomed before them, ominous and foreboding. Sam gazed upon the only means of crossing across the abyss with discomfort, noting well the dark long shadows that were beneath it.  
  
Frodo gave Sam a hug as best he could when he was running at full speed, and through that bond it seemed as if they could have been out running in the jaded pastures of the Shire. Their fingers linked together for a brief moment, a reassurance of hope. 


	6. No Emotion

Frodo and Sam's fingers were torn apart when they were forced into a single line as they hurried across the bridge. Gimli's unsure feet slowed the procession only slightly, and all seemed well when they reached the other side. Aragorn silently counted the four hobbits and Arrow, as Gandalf checked to see that Aragorn was present. A loud roar erupted from the chamber behind them, and a blast of sparks lit the cave for a brief moment.  
Across the bride a horrible figure emerged. His body, taller than a mans, was made of shadows and donned in flames. His long fiery mane smoldered, swirling a dark smoke about him.  
  
"A Balrog!" Legolas cried in dismay, recoiling. Arrow stood rigid, staring at the creature that many orcs had feared. With a bellow the Balrog ran forward to the graceful arched bridge. On their side, Gandalf stepped forward. Boromir and Aragorn were not far behind.  
  
Too distracted to give a typical demand, Gandalf, silent and powerful, looked on at the Balrog. When the beast set one flaming foot upon the bridge, Gandalf strided to the arch's middle while the two men stood side by side, ready to strike.  
  
"You cannot pass." He said, "I am a servant of the secret fire, wielder of the secret flame of Anor. You cannot pass. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun. Go back to the Shadow! You cannot pass."  
  
The Balrog, mute, seemed to lose his fire; however, the shadows grew ever darker. He stepped suddenly onto the bridge and drew himself to his full height, wings spanning from wall to wall. Gandalf looked very much like an old man, weak and gray to Arrow's eyes. She surged forward, perhaps meaning to defend the wizard but Gimli's hand steadied her.  
  
The Balrog's flaming sword leapt from the shadows, and Glamdring glittered white in answer. The two weapons made a terrific noise and then there was a spurt of white fire. Stepping back, the Balrag's sword fell to molten fragments. Gandalf wavered upon the bridge, and took one hesitant step away from his opponent.  
  
"You cannot pass!" He said once more.  
  
"We cannot let him stand alone." Aragorn said, and with that he and Boromir lunged forward shouting their battle cries.  
  
It was then that Gandalf lifted his staff, and crying aloud he smote the bridge before him. The staff broke and fell in many pieces from his tired hand. Right at the Balrog's feet the bridge broke and the dark beast fell into the abyss. Weary, Gandalf turned and made to walk across the remaining bridge. But a whip of fire wrapped around his legs and dragged him downwards. He stumbled and fell. With a last look at the group he could only utter, "Fly you fools", before he too fell into the dark abyss.  
  
Arrows began to rain down around them. It seemed a spell had been cast and they could not move, only stare where Gandalf had last stood. Frodo then let out a cry and tried to run forward, but he too was caught by Gimli before he could leap after Gandalf.  
  
"We will obey his last commands, follow me." Aragorn said. With some disinclination and many tears they trailed behind their new leader. They ran swiftly and no arrow could stop them, not even the last group of orcs waiting in ambush slowed them. The entrance of Moria was before them, the shining sun ready to spread her blessings of warmth.  
  
Arrow was soon flying, eager to be gone from Moria, her home. A wave of sunlight touched her and she silently rejoiced, racing from the horrible cave and into the safety of Middle Earth. The others were soon behind her. Their silence was unsettling to Arrow who did not grieve when others died since it happened so often in Moria. Had her heart broken every time someone she cared for had passed onto another world, it would be in fragmented pieces.  
  
The girl lay on the ground besides Merry and Pippin who clung to each other for comfort. A smile formed on her lips as the sun and clean air touched her, but faded when she finally did look at her companions. Sam was sobbing, tear flooded eyes staring ever hopefully at the exit of Moria. Frodo was silent, but tears ran down his cheeks. Legolas stared outward, trying to compose himself after the shock of death. Gimli was torn between anger and despair, fighting his emotions behind a guise of calm. Boromir, feeling lost and helpless, fought back tears. Of them all, Aragorn looked emotionally unscathed.  
  
He stood on a tall rock, gazing at the surroundings, preparing to be their leader. But beneath the surface was a man burdened with the task of keeping his wild emotions under control so the others would follow him. Arrow watched all this, and with whatever talents women possess for understanding emotions, she knew how each and every companion felt. That frightened Arrow for it was new and she hated change.  
  
The sun made her sleepy with warmth and she shut her eyes just to think about where her true parents were, what had become of her adoptive family, what had become of Gandalf, and she thought too about memories hidden in the shadows of her mind. Her head was swimming. She recalled a painful slap across the face she had received for crying one day, and a day without dinner for laughing.  
  
The orcs did not show emotion, so she would not show emotion. But as she opened her eyes to see the cotton clouds, she also saw her new companions. Her new friends. Her new family. What were they? Certainly not orcs, that was for sure, but did that justify her abandoning everything she had ever learned?  
  
Arrow took a steadying breath and stood her throat tight as she struggled not to cry. "Where are we going now?" She choked out, receiving only a quiet look from Boromir.  
  
"We shall wait for Aragorn's decision, Arrow." He said, taking a step towards her, grateful for the new topic to think about. Her lips parted as if to speak, but instead, she fell into Boromir's arms sobbing silently, hot tears falling from her eyes. 


	7. Elves or Death

Boromir was, of course, rather bewildered when Arrow fell crying into his arms. Each choked sob made her wiry frame tremble, and he could only hold the strange girl so she would not crumple to the rocky terrain. Aragorn, who had been vigilant the entire time, was momentarily preoccupied by this first human like gesture of Arrow. It was not long after she had begun to cry that she struggled to stop. Eyes glassy from tears, she pulled away from Boromir and noiselessly sat down.  
  
She could not bring herself to look at anyone, and simply clutched her knees to her chest. A few sniffles and a tear streaked face were the only insinuations to the ordeal.  
  
"We cannot stay here longer." Aragorn said regretfully, looking towards the mountains. Both he and Legolas said a farewell to Gandalf. The Company was soon reassembled, but it seemed to lack something without Gandalf there with them. The assurance that everything would be consummate at the end had vanished with the wise old wizard, and it was only now that some realized how valuable he had been.  
  
Treading through the rough trail, they made their way silently. It was not until a single column caught Gimli's attention did anyone dare speak aloud.  
"That is Durin's stone!" cried Gimli, "I cannot pass without looking at the wonder of the dale!"  
  
"Be swift then," Aragorn said, "The orcs of Moria, I think, do not dare to swarm from their home until the sun sets. We must be far away by twilight. Our only guide will be the twinkling stars this night, the moon is nearly spent."  
  
Gimli sprang eagerly towards Kheled-zaram, bringing Frodo and Sam along with him. Despite everything, a smile curved Aragorn's lips as he watched. Besides him Arrow looked on curiously.  
  
"Durin's stone marks the spot where Durin first looked in the Mirrormere." The ranger answered to her unasked question. Her brow furrowed as she wondered why that enthralled the dwarf, but he was very peculiar after all.  
"He is proud of his ancestry. Most dwarves are, as are most races." said Aragorn.  
  
"I did not question anything."  
  
"What were you thinking, then?"  
  
Her lips contorted into an ugly scowl in response. It was then that Gimli returned, with Sam and Frodo just behind him.  
  
"What did you see?" Pippin asked of Sam, but he was so deep in thought that he did not hear.  
The great pace set by Aragorn slowly took its toll on the youngest members of the group, save Arrow. Pippin staggered often as he walked, but his older cousin was always there to catch him. Behind them Frodo and Sam played a similar game, Sam catching Frodo if he were to stumble, and Frodo doing the same for Sam. Glancing back, Legolas noticed their weariness and called to Aragorn to halt.  
  
"I am sorry, friends!" Said Aragorn as he hurried back towards them, "Night is fast approaching and we still have much land to cross. Boromir and I shall bear you further so we may reach Lorien sooner."  
  
Boromir scooped Merry and Pippin into his arms, while Aragorn took Sam and his master. After many minutes had passed, Arrow could contain her curiosity no longer.  
  
"What is Lorien?"  
  
Aragorn, nearly breathless from his quick gait and extra baggage, looked to Legolas. The elf smiled fondly as he thought of the stories and songs associated with the fair dwelling.  
  
"Lothlorien is the most beautiful of elven dwellings. Tall trees with smooth gray bark bloom with leaves that do not fall, but instead turn to gold. In the spring when the new green arrives is when they do fall, blanketing all of Lorien in the most beautiful golden carpet. So is said by the elves in Mirkwood and often have I wished to walk there in the springtime."  
  
"It's a home for elves?" A horrified Arrow questioned.  
  
"Yes. As I said-"  
  
"Elves?"  
  
"Yes, if you would-"  
  
"Never will I live in an abode of elvish folk." Arrow said. Her tired feet walked no more, and she stood in silent defiance. "Leave me to go where I like, I am of no use to you."  
  
Gimli was the first to stop, and the others soon followed his example. Aragorn had been considering doing just that for many hours, but he did not say so.  
  
"Let us make a fire and rest. We will determine your fate then." He said. Laying Sam and Frodo down, he went to get fresh water. Pippin, recovering from lack of food and energy, followed the ranger once Boromir let him down. Legolas and Gimli kindled a fire of brush and fir-wood.  
  
"It was ill fated that I met such a crew when I left Moria." Arrow muttered bitterly. She sat down and it seemed to those not busy with chores that an angry heat radiated from her body.  
  
"Why do you say that?" Merry asked her, sitting besides her.  
  
"I am going in the direction opposite of where I wished to go, and any choices made about what to do are not mine."  
  
"They are not mine, either."  
  
"You agreed to that. I did not."  
  
The hobbit and human fell into silence after that, each thinking of home. The crackling of flames and sizzle of sausages soon filled the air. Legolas gazed at the meat disdainfully, wishing for a full meal in his father's hall. Gimli poked at it with a pronged fork, disappointed in the meager size.  
  
"We will have better foods soon enough, do not fret." Aragorn said. When it was ready, they ate, and discussed what would become of Arrow.  
  
"I am no servant of the dark lord, let me go free and I will tell naught of what I have witnessed." She swore.  
  
"If a servant of the dark side were to find you, torture you, threaten to kill you, would you speak then?" Legolas asked.  
  
"No."  
  
"You say so now, but I doubt a child as yourself would withstand such a thing."  
  
She did not reply, but she knew it was true. Admitting that to an elf, however, was inconceivable.  
  
Aragorn and Legolas quarreled for many minutes about the likelihood of her becoming a prisoner, until they decided she would be safe. The debate was quite possibly won when Arrow grew bored and hit a tree dead on with one of her own orcish arrows.  
  
"Gandalf certainly had a plan but we cannot ask for his guidance now." Boromir said.  
  
"No, we cannot. But as it is right now, I think it would be safe to let Arrow roam free." Aragorn replied.  
  
"Truly?" Arrow exclaimed, jumping to her feet. With a quick look to the others for reassurance, the ranger nodded. The girl cried something in the black speech, causing Legolas to cringe.  
  
"I wish you could have seen the beauty that is Lorien." Said the elf, but Arrow was too busy preparing herself to reply. Nearly instantly she had everything she needed, and just as quickly she ran the way they had come.  
  
"Do you think that was wise, Aragorn?" Frodo asked.  
  
"I do not know for sure, I only hope that it was." Aragorn answered.  
Leaving the fellowship behind her, Arrow ran to some unknown destination. Dark tangled hair flew in the biting wind as she dashed over familiar terrain. She kept her pace, long and hard as it was, and found herself standing by Durin's stone just when the sun set. Darkness overtook the land and Arrow paused.  
  
"Where is it that I am going? I cannot return to Moria, there is no welcome there for me." She said aloud. Wondering to herself, she looked down to see what had so excited Gimli. When she looked away, she was as Sam had been, lost in thought. It made approaching her so much easier for the orc of Moria.  
  
"You betrayed us!" An angered voice growled, followed by a curse in the orc's tongue. Arrow whipped around with her long knife quivering before her. The narrowed eyes of Headcleaver, who had long been her tormenter, met hers. He was Pluton's son, and had often been jealous of the attention given to the only human among them. Pluton had never been loving, but he had certainly cared more for his adoptive daughter than his rightful son.  
  
"Still bitter, Shortshot?" She asked, using her nickname for him. The title had been spawned when every shot of his bow fell short of the target in practice. Arrow, a master of archery, had laughed at his lacking abilities.  
"Not for long." He answered, one hand firmly grasping at her throat. Angered by his bold move, Arrow slashed at his arm. The blade cut through his limb, leaving him with a bloody stump. He howled in pain as he watched his hand fall to the ground, but his cry soon turned to anger. Headcleaver lunged at Arrow, knocking her to the ground alongside his severed hand.  
  
They rolled around the barren ground, punching, clawing, fighting, and cursing. It did not take long for a dozen or so orcs to join the fray, and Arrow soon found herself quite outnumbered. Headcleaver had her pinned against the ground, and no matter how much she resisted, he still held firm.  
  
"Pluton said we were never to harm you because he had plans for you. Those orders are useless now. Do you know why? You killed him." He hissed.  
  
"I would kill him again, if you gave me the chance." She spat back. A forceful blow sent her head ringing, but she gritted her teeth.  
  
"You will not have the chance, I'm afraid. We're going to Mordor, to fight for Sauron."  
  
"That is a lie; he would never take someone as weak as you." Another blow. Arrow could taste blood on her lips and it only made her more furious. She managed to get free, for just a second, and grabbed her long knife. When he pinned her down again, she cut his stomach open. His innards glistened in the pale light of the moon, and in seconds he was dead.  
  
She sprang to her feet, attacking the others without mercy. Half of them were soon dead, but she was not faring well. Drenched in sweat and blood she ran, stumbling and afraid, towards Lorien. It was death or elves, and of the two, elves seemed like the better choice. 


	8. That Awful Smell

It seemed ages passed by as she ran. Every tiny moment of her Spartan training had led up to this mighty race, which for the moment, she was winning.   
  
Labored breaths and heavy feet followed closely behind her, as persistant as a hungry animal. That's what they were, the orcs following her. Animals. Arrow sucked in air desperately, her chest heaving. Lothlorien couldn't be much further. If it wasn't, she would surely perish.  
  
Her legs were on fire, burning with the relentless pace and lack of rest. Every muscle, every movement, was painfully obvious in her battered brain. No other birthday had produced such a change, and Arrow honestly had not expected much of this one. Hope had been ever present, though anchored down by reality. This was her nightmares and dreams come true in one amazing day.  
  
"The stupid runt....is slowin'," one of the remaining orcs choked out. Was she? With a desperate, terrified push, she surged forward, faster than before. The orcs behind her let out gutteral growls and struggled after the girl's maddening pace. Not only were their lives at stake, so was their pride, and that would be an awful thing to lose.  
  
Arrow's bleary eyes lifted, in perfect timing, to be met with the sight of the woods if Lothlorien. It was as beautifully disgusting as the elf had promised, but no matter. Inside it was life, hope, and the future. Moria was death and the past. If only her weary legs could carry her a bit further.  
  
Whump! Whump!  
  
The familiar sound whistled past her ears. Arrows! Someone was shooting! Through the whistle of the wind, she heard no more footsteps behind her. It took her a moment to stop her body, to force it to turn round. Though rebelious, it obeyed. The two orcs had arrows in them.   
  
Whump!  
  
Arrow screamed in pain as an arrow slid into the brutalized flesh of her right leg. Wavering uncertainly, the girl crumpled to the grassy ground. Blades of grass scratched her face and body. The wetness of morning dew sunk uncomfortably into the tattered remaints of her clothing. Her teeth ground together, keeping the flood of curses and wails captive. Instead, she rolled herself over scarce seconds before an arrow sunk into the grass by her stomach.  
  
"I seek the Fellowship! They know me!" She cried, desperate. What was that elves name?  
  
"Legolas of Mirkwood knows me! The man of Gondor! And the halflings! Do not kill me!"  
  
Her pitiful wails were heard by the archers just inside the edge of the forest. They were what remained of the gaurd of Lothloriren, as the rest were accompanying the Fellowship to the Lady Galadriel. To their keen eyes, this creature calling to help looked most unfit for entrance into their woods. The orc girl was caked with a layer of blood, not all of it hers. And sweat was coming from every pore in her body. Saliva dripped from her mouth as she struggled for air.  
  
"I know of what happened to the wizard Gandalf! Let me enter your woods, I mean no harm!"   
  
One of the elves in the tiny crew notched another arrow, and took aim; he was ready to give the bloodied creature a quick death when a hand not belonging to him lowered his bow.  
  
"She speaks of the wizard," said the elf who had prevented her death.   
  
"Orc trickery. They are devious creatures, my friend. Death is for her."  
  
The two elves of the gaurd nearly resorted to punching as they struggled with the bow and quiver of arrows. The one, Megilmir, would not stand to have her killed just yet.   
  
"Be patient, friend," he said soothingly before leaving the safety of the woods. His light footfall went unheard by the child, though she could not have heard an olyphant walking, she had blacked out. Pale lids mercifully covered her weary eyes, her body demanding rest.   
  
"Awaken, orc friend," the elf commanded. His tone was neither harsh nor friendly, simply neutral. He did not want to anger the creature. When she had not stirred, he dropped to his knees. Her smell filled his senses and he gagged, tempted to stand up again. Blood, sweat, urine, vomit, and Eru knew what else covered her. No wonder she slept.  
  
He inhaled deeply, and prepared to mentally awaken her. It was extremely difficult for an elf as himself, who was trained with the bow and not the mind. If he could not do it, they would have to wait or search out a more experienced elf.   
  
Gently, delicately, Megilmir probed into her senses and mind. Everything seemed frozen, for the moment, and he tried desperately to nudge her awake, but to no avail. He drew out of her mind and let out a tired breath. His friends had appeared behind him as if by magic, and kept away from where the girl's stench was strongest.   
  
"I cannot waken her," he admitted. The overly anxious fingers of his friend twitched towards his arrows, but Megilmir shook his head.  
  
"I wish to clean her, rid her of the awful smell, and then take her to a healer. I do not dare do anything, as I know nothing of medicine."  
  
"Nor I. Let us hurry in bathing her, as I am not sure that I can deal with her smell," his friend replied. Together they gingerly lifted her, finding her light. "Did you see any hint of the fellowship within her mind?" He asked.  
  
"No, but I did not look. It is dangerous to go looking about someone's mind when they are in a state like this."  
  
Seconds passed to minutes, and eventually the gaurd elves reached a rippling stream. Laying her down, they began to strip her of her filthy clothing.   
  
"Megilmir.."  
  
They both paused uncertainly when she was in naught but the makeshift orcish undergarments. When occasion called for it, they would strip a fellow gaurd. But those were friends, as well as males of the elven variety. A female human in orcish adornments who might be an enemy was entirely different. As they gazed at each other, they decided silently to leave them for now.   
  
For the next half hour, they dirtied the water with the filth of her things. Soaking, but clean, the two elves draped them over a low tree branch. Together they began to wash the girl herself, something a bit sickening to do. Using some of the useless tatters of her garments, they washed away the blood and sweat. Beneath was a pallid, malnourished, yet muscular figure. They skirted around the various wounds and bruises, unsure of what to do.  
  
"I think you can actually see her skin now," Megilmir noted. To be able to joke over this matter lightened the mood considerably.   
  
"She is not much of a beauty, this one," his friend noted sadly. Megilmir smiled softly, and nodded. He had heard of some human women who rivaled elves in beauty, and she was certainly not amoung them. Her long face was more suited to the orcs with whom she had been running from.  
  
"Then she is like you, Gilgilen, strong, but ugly!" He teased lightly. They both laughed lightly at this, for Gilgilen had more elven ladies interested in him than he could handle. After dwindling in the stream themselves, they took down the drying garments. Getting on her upper clothing was not difficult, but they'd ruined her pants getting them off without disturbing the arrow.  
  
"Could we perhaps make a skirt?" Gilgilen suggested. It seemed improper to bring such a creature to a healer the way she was dressed now. His friend ran his hand over the rough fabric, and at his friend's words, slashed his knife across it. The lower part fluttered to the forest floor in a heap, while he held tight to what was left. It would have to do. Once it was upon her, they resumed their walk to Lothlorien.  
  
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-  
  
"Milady, two of the remaining guards are approaching. They carry a human in orcish garb with them," A softspoken elf maiden informed the Lady Galadriel. Coupled with the arrival of the Fellowship not much earlier, it made for a busy day. Many elves were sent down to the guards, healers amoung them. It would still be some time before the link between the girl and the fellowship was made clear.  
  
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-  
  
"Megilmir! Gilgilen! Halt!" Cried a chorus of sweet elf voices. The two gladly let down their catch, and greeted their friends. It was not entirely unexpected, afterall, they had been carrying a strange package. And her lack of blindfold was of some concern, even though she was in a deep, unreachable sleep.  
  
"This orc girl spoke of the fellowship. We know not her ties with them, but feared killing her should it prove too rash. If someone could waken her..."  
  
"Stand aside," a curt voice demanded. A rather young elf healer made his way past the dozen or so others sent out to investigate this small mystery. His clear, dark eyes made it perfectly clear that all should give him and this strange human some room. An elf maiden let out a noise as if burned when he glared at her for coming too close.   
  
He held one hand out over her heart, the other over her forehead, and inhaled, relaxing. He was quicker to melt into the girl's mind and body, and quicker also to act. First he tended to her gravest wounds, healing them as best he could. The rest he left alone as it was well known that some things were best left for time to fix. He made a mental note of what to report once he came out of his trance-like state: both legs had badly strained muscles, the wound in her leg was deep though uninfected, and a filthy cut on her side would need attendance.   
  
It was only then that he turned towards her mind.   
  
'Wake up, human.'  
  
Her mind remained blissfully silent and still, leaving him to wonder what trauma had caused this. He probed deeper into her mind to find an answer when she began to stir. All at once, her mind became a jumble of haphazard thoughts and images that he fought to sort out.   
  
'How do you know the fellowship?' He demanded. He sensed how startled she was to hear a voice, or sense it, within her, but she recovered quickly.  
  
'They found me outside of Moria. I helped guide them through, and they released me from their service outside of an elvish dwelling.'  
  
'With who are you aligned?'  
  
There was a confused silence within her mind, and he repeated the question. In answer, he received three images. One was a memory of Pluton, in a rare fit of goodness, handing her a quiver of arrows that fit her better. The second was of Boromir telling her of his great city. Lastly, a glance she had stolen of Merry and Pippin huddled close together. The healer felt this confusing, and began to withdraw from her.  
  
Breath came more steadily for both him and Arrow as he retreated from her mind. His eyes flashed open only moments before her lids struggled to lift. There was a series of outraged cries amoung the elves, as this orcish human would be able to see Lorien. One rather swift maiden ripped fabric from her sleeve, and wrapped in round Arrow's eyes.  
  
At this, the girl made her first noise. And it was not one the elves were happy to hear. A hoarse, scratchy voice errupted from her mouth letting lose insults in the Black Speach and orcish cries.   
  
"O! Someone silence her!"  
  
Megilmir tentatively pressed his hand against her mouth, but was bitten for his trouble. The same elven maiden from before made a gag with her other sleeve, and it was used to silence her terrible sounds.  
  
"What did you discover?" Gilgilen questioned. The healer stood slowly, importantly, and looked the warrior in the eye.  
  
"I am not sure you made the best decision, my friend. She was discovered by the Fellowship and released by them before they entered the Lady's forest. She is like kin to the orcs of Moria."  
  
The elves view in shock this human who supposedly was like kin to the orcs. It was an abhorred notion, and most silently thought she should be slain or taken out from the woods at once. Very likely this would have been the case, but the rascal chose this moment to begin to thrash about and scream into the gag for all she was worth.  
  
Arrow, in her blindness and muteness, was all too aware of the voices around her. And the one that had been in her head. Oh god, why was an elf in her most private thoughts? How horrid! Besides that, her heart was no longer bound tightly to the orcs of Moria. They had betrayed her, though they had done right by them.   
  
Right now, her lone and single thought was life. O! How she wanted to live! To suffer death without seeing the beautiful city of Gondor was unbearable. If she only could do one thing, it would be that. The painful throb in her leg was nothing compared to the idea of being killed so shortly after she had tasted the sweetness of freedom.   
  
She bucked her body like a wild thing, and screamed so loudly that no gag could have muted her. Around her, the elves were becoming anxious.   
  
"Slay her. She is just some foul creation of the orcs!"  
  
"Could you enter her mind again?"  
  
"At least silence her."  
  
The crowd of elves each offered advice or questioned the three appointed leaders. Feeling she was losing in this battle, Arrow managed to get out a coherant sentence around the gag.  
  
"I know about the ring!"  
  
An eerie silence fell after this. No words passed the fair lips of the elves, and they instead just stared in amazement at this orc girl who knew of the ring.  
  
"Surely, this is a matter for Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel," Megilmir whispered. A few mute nods answered him. But what of the girl?   
  
"Take away the gag, but keep it handy should she scream again. Remove the arrow from her leg, for Eru's sake!" He snipped. This was done promptly, and then Megilmir held the girl in his own arms. She was light enough.   
  
"You must be silent. When we reach the Lord and Lady you will be permitted to see and speak. Until then, no noise."  
  
A few elves sprung away like does to announce the arrival of this oddity. The rest fell in behind Megilmir, an odd procession though it looked. They marched on past the beauty of Lorien, into the heart of the woods where the Lord and Lady dwelt.  
  
-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-  
  
"My Lord and Lady, Megilmir will soon arrive with an orc girl who spoke of the fellowship and the ring!"  
  
The two elves looked up from their, supposedly, private conversation. The elf who greeted them radiated with such nervous energy that he was immediatly forgiven, as it was obviously an emergency. The lady of the woods smiled at him, thanked him, then turned to Celeborn.  
  
"There have been many strange occurances on this day. I wonder if it is all for some yet unknown reason." He mused. He looked into the entrancing depths of his lover's eyes, searching for both answers and hope. When she looked away, out over Lorien, he realized that he had been unable to find neither.  
  
"Not even the Lady Galadriel knows all," she reminded him gently, teasingly.   
  
The moment was interrupted by the arrival of Megilmir, Arrow, and the parade of elves. Smiles appeared on the timeless lips of the Lord and Lady, though they waved all but Megilmir and his captive away.   
  
"My Lord and Lady, I told her that once she had arrived before you that she could see. I would like to honor this promise, but.."  
  
"Let her see," Lord Celeborn commanded. He nodded, and undid the knot of the blindfold. It slid away, and at once her eyes opened. Her mouth followed.  
  
The two beings before her had such a divine light around and even in them that it was difficult to look at them. As her shock faded, she took note of their location. Legolas had described it nearly flawlessly. Lorien was truly a place of beauty.  
  
"What is your name?" Lord Celeborn questioned when moments had passed in silence. It seemed he was fated to break the silences of Lorien when his wife choose not to.  
  
"The orcs first called me Wynter, but I was nicknamed Arrow." Her voice was oddly submissive, given that she was annoyed for having to go through this process again.  
  
"Why do you don such orcish attire?"  
  
"It was simply what I was given in Moria."  
  
"How old are you?"  
  
"Nineteen."  
  
This was her first lie, and her last. Her shame at not being older when she told Legolas the number still lingered, and she felt an extra year would soon better.  
  
"Are you truly, child?" Asked the Lady Galadriel for the first time. Shivers and gooseflesh came when that majestic voice hit her ears. It was commanding, and she felt she should look up and meet the Lady's gaze. Her lips trembled as those eyes saw through to her very soul. When she could stand it no longer, she looked down and let out a weary sigh.   
  
"Are you going to kill me?" Arrow asked softly. Her voice quivered so that the elven pair could not suppress their smiles.  
  
"Elves are not in the habit of killing children," Lady Galadriel assured her, "Though I daresay it may brighten your cloudy mood to see your new friends again. Should you permit me to leave a moment, I will arrange this reunion."   
  
Arrow nodded, keeping her lips tight. When the beautiful elf woman had vanished, she looked shyly up at Lord Celeborn. His features were so fair, and she was acutely aware of the bump in her already large nose, and the size of her chin. She could have withered into dust right then, where she belonged. It was impossible to hate such creatures.  
  
"Lord Celeborn," she began uneasily, "I am afraid that there may have been something of a mistake. I..."  
  
"Child, by the end of this you will see no one is unimportant. You least of all." 


End file.
